Festivities and Fruitcakes

December 19

December 19: “A case of mistaken identity.” (from Ennui Enigma)

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A/N: Watson’s POV. Takes place after Reichenbach but before Empty House.

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Mary and I were approaching the outskirts of an ordinary crowd, milling about in an ordinary train station. We had taken a short holiday for some fresh air—Mary insisted that I had been working too hard and needed a break—and how we were returning home.

I began carefully shouldering through the crowd, Mary’s hand clasped in mine as she followed close behind me.

I saw a face out of the corner of my eye that made my heart jump and my breath catch in my throat. I gasped and stopped dead in my tracks, turning around to look again, to get a better look at the man.

I am not sure exactly what it was about him that caught my eye. Perhaps it was his height and lean figure, or perhaps his dark hair, or prominent nose.

In the brief moment when I had first glimpsed him, I could have sworn I recognized my old friend Sherlock Holmes. But I was wrong, of course. He was dead, and was not coming back.

“John?” My wife asked uncertainly.

“It’s nothing,” I said hastily and tried to begin walking again, but Mary remained where she was, gently pulling me by the hand back to her.

“It was that man, wasn’t it?” she asked me softly, her blue eyes searching my face. “The tall one, just there.” She gestured inconspicuously toward him.

I lowered my gaze. “Yes, it was. Sorry, I was just being silly.”

She gave my hand a squeeze. “You aren’t being silly. It’s not uncommon to think that you recognized someone in a crowd.”

I sighed and slowly raised my head to meet her eyes again. “I know.”

“I miss him too,” she said gently. “But he isn’t coming back.”

A lump began to form in my throat, and I didn’t trust my voice so I just gave a nod.

My dear Mary gave me a sad smile. “Come, John, we had better get moving, or we’ll miss our train.”